Big Fat Fly in the Dead of Winter

It’s the dead of winter
and there is a
big fat fly
marauding around my garage
coming closer and closer
to my head
as it sweeps out
trying to get the most
of the situation
and I sit here
writing this
to Stevie Wonder
with a used blunt
in the ashtray
sipping on a glass of Scotch.

I light a smoke.
The fly still gets closer.

Somewhere in Western China
someone is fucking
a blow-up doll.

4 thoughts on “Big Fat Fly in the Dead of Winter

    1. Thank you! I’m trying to change my subject matter to something more relevant than hanging out in my garage. Damn winter.

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